


To Cast a Shadow

by garglyswoof



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: AU like woah, Also Kennett, Established Relationship, F/M, amazingly enough lol, but it's small so i didn't want to tag, is there a tag for adventure fluff?, light smut there for characterization/plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garglyswoof/pseuds/garglyswoof
Summary: When Caroline had made the choice to be with Klaus, she hadn't expected them to be interrupted so rudely by an ancient supernatural threat with ties to Klaus' past.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3tinkgemini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3tinkgemini/gifts).



> Hi! I totally stalked your blog and tried to incorporate some things I thought you might like. I hope you enjoy :)

**Mystic Falls - 994**

“What’s this then?”

Father’s voice was on the edge of gruff, which meant he wasn’t happy. Rebekah glanced at Kol through her lashes, letting his quick wink ease her worry. The shadows cowered behind his legs, scared perhaps by Father’s voice, but _Kol_ was never scared.

“They’re our shadow friends, Father. Mother says they walk the line between worlds, and that they like Bekah and I best.” Kol’s tone held a note of pride, and Bekah couldn’t help but grin herself. Elijah and Finn and Nik all said shadows were child’s play. But Kol and her knew better. They knew the shadows were _magic._

Father speared a glance at the door to the longhouse where mother was gathering hot stones for cooking. He looked like he always did when he thought they were being silly children, and Bekah became afraid he would stop them from playing with their friends.

“Father, they help to teach us magic, like mother does, so that we can protect the family!” Bekah knelt down and cupped her hands in front of her. Runa couldn’t resist and disengaged from Kol’s leg, the shadow jumping up inside Bekah's hands, all smoke and bubbling black, like she was holding darkness and her hands the cauldron. Bekah pulled her hands close and whispered in the language mother had given up on showing the older boys, but Kol and Bekah had drank in:

“ _tuum protege me, a suis tenebris”_

She watched Father’s eyes’ flicker as Runa doubled, then tripled in size, the darkness forming a circle and her face shrouded by the shadow’s veil. She saw Father reach out and shout as his hand struck the now-solid shade, and heard Kol’s bark of laughter before he managed to rein it in, though a smile still danced across his face.

“It’s ok, father. Runa won’t hurt me.”

Father was grumbling and Bekah feared she had lost him by assaulting his pride. She tried another tack, petting the inside of the darkness that had formed in a sphere around her, like the glass beads Torunn made on the fire and gave to all the little girls during Midsummer blót. She still kept hers hidden beneath a loose board in the longhouse.

“ _gladius al patrem”_

Kol’s eyes lit up as the grass became shadowed by darkness in the form of a blade, smoke curling up its form. Bekah nodded to father and his brows knit like they did when he was trying to decide whom to believe in an argument. But Bekah _always_ won, and so she did now, his hand reaching out and curving around the blade’s grip, his eyes wondrous as he felt the shadow's solid form in his hands, weighing its heft and then spinning and cutting at a branch of the sturdy oak that shaded the longhouse. Runa cleaved through the branch with no resistance and it fell to the ground. Father gave a whoop of laughter and Bekah's heart lifted at the sound and then Runa was on the ground and she was swept up in father’s arms and she was laughing, laughing, laughing until Kol’s shout split across the air like a lightning strike.

“Ansel!” Runa’s brother – Kol and Bekah had decided their shadows were siblings too - had stopped his cowering behind Kol and was slithering like a shadow snake towards father. Perhaps he thought to join Runa, but the shadow’s motivation was forgotten in the wake of father’s eyes as he set Bekah down.

“You’ve named them? What’s this one’s name then?” father asked, his voice strange.

“Runa,” Bekah said, slowly, searching his face. Something felt different and she was confused. Her gaze darted to Kol but he ignored her, staring at father intently.

Father turned towards him. “And what did you call this one? Ansel? That’s an uncommon name.”

Bekah spoke without thinking. “Mother named him. She said it was a name for a good man and an even better shadow.”

“Did she?” Father's eyes turned cold and he turned towards the longhouse. “Carry on, children, I think I shall talk to mother about your pets, and about how good of a man this Ansel really is.” He walked off without a backwards glance, but his mood had shifted the air and Runa and Ansel had disappeared back to wherever it was shadow creatures came from. Bekah looked up at Kol’s worried face and knew she had said something wrong.

The fighting lasted all night.

The next day father had changed. He still smiled at Bekah, cuffed Elijah and even serious Finn behind their ears in affection, helped Kol learn how to carve fishhooks from bone, but Niklaus? Niklaus became dirt beneath father’s boot and her heart ached.

Because Bekah knew these things were all connected, and she knew it was her fault.

 

* * *

**New Orleans, 2020**

  
The shadows came at dusk on a stiflingly-hot August day, the city’s human inhabitants holed up next to their A/C units, tourists holding their 24-ounce souvenir Hurricane cups to sweat-mottled faces, drowning their heated sorrows one slurp of sickeningly-sweet alcohol at a time. If the humans saw the darkness rising, the curls of black smoke that darted between buildings, they blamed it on the heat.

Rebekah wouldn’t have noticed either if she hadn’t been distracted by a fabulous pair of Valentino pumps that were simply _not_ doing that redhead justice. So she took a brief detour into the French Market and whispered a few words and now the redhead didn’t look any worse really and - _how convenient_ \- she had been _looking_ for a pair of studded leather pumps. Wiping her lips discretely on one of the millions of hideous souvenir shirts on display, Rebekah heard a strangled, guttural voice cry out. She flashed towards the noise out of boredom, through the open archways into a maintenance area next to the market where trashcans sat full to brimming.

A vampire - one of Marcel’s tiresome brood - was on his knees, tilting precariously. She thought his eyes were completely black before she saw the whites reappearing and a shadow plumed out of his slack-jawed mouth. The shadow seemed to pulse, crackling with energy as it flew into the vampire once again, Rebekah tracking the shadow's movement by the darkness that moved just beneath the vampire's skin. He toppled to the ground, lifeless, and the shadow emerged again, hanging in the air, Bekah later swearing that it seemed to consider her for a moment before it disappeared without a trace.

* * *

On the other side of the Quarter, Klaus narrowed his eyes at the canvas in front of him, stepping back to blur the colors together and spot the flaw. His latest attempt to capture the moment had Caroline arrived at his doorstep was lacking something – perhaps it was the light as it shone on her blonde curls, or the glimmer in her eyes when their gazes met. He had stood there with a million questions racing through his mind because despite keeping tabs on her over the years, he had never expected _this_. This girl with her decision blazing in her gaze looked up at him and said, “you kept your promise. Now I'm keeping one to myself.” There had been a thousand kisses since, and there would be billions more in their everlasting lifetime, but he would never forget the rising of his heart then, when her breath met his lips. A choice, hers, and she had taken it.

 _That's what's missing_ , he thought, _perhaps more pink in the cheeks, to show her color risen from her own determined thoughts._ There! perfect, and just in time too – he heard the faint crack of a snare drum in the distance, the horns rising to meet its sharp snap.

“Klaus!” her excited voice called up the stairs. “Come oooon! We're gonna miss it!” Caroline was enamored with this city and its floats and king cakes, its etouffe and artist markets, its brass bands and blues and easy acceptance of witches; the Bennett witch having trailed her to the town when she first escaped her small-town life. He thought these second line parades, that appeared as if by magic, might be her favorite: celebrations of life and love and the spirit of this city.

He swirled the brush in turpentine and wiped it off before following her into the streets, watching her dance and make friends with a young stepper who beamed with a smile of pride at her easy compliments. She danced towards Klaus, teasing him by moving close and backing away, and when she finally moved to meet him after a few blocks, his hand settled on the small of her back to keep her close. Her face turned up to his and his hand moved to her hip, spinning her and backing her up hard against a weathered door before he dipped his head to kiss her, swallowing her exclamation of surprise. The parade simply nodded its appreciation and danced on.  
 

* * *

“Nik, I swear it. It was a...thing of darkness and smoke, like the shadows Kol and I used to play with. Mother said they were -”

Klaus’ mouth twisted narrowly before he interrupted his sister. “There is _no way_ mother is behind this-”

“I didn’t say she was, Nik, and if you’d let me finish my sentence, perhaps you’d learn something.”

Klaus inhaled deeply in irritation but kept quiet, dropping into a chair before gesturing at her grandly to continue.

“Oh _thank you_ , my liege,” Rebekah bit out in an icy tone and held back a smile at Caroline's laugh; she’d never liked the chit and didn’t plan on changing anytime soon. “The shadows that Kol and I used to play with - when does he get back from Rio by the way? I thought Carnival only lasted a week?” Klaus shrugged and Caroline eyed her and lifted a glass in question. Rebekah nodded in thanks. Fine. The girl was still a chit, but at least she had manners.

“Anyways, mother said these shadows weren’t from the Other Side, but rather the edge of it. Kol and I used to train on magic with them. They had personalities, almost. Playful, protective, loyal. Ansel even learned how to play tricks on us.”

Klaus almost couldn’t hold back his surprise and deflected as quickly as he could. “You...named them?”

Caroline handed Rebekah a glass and sat back casually on the arm of Klaus’ chair, his hand reaching up to rest on her thigh. Their easy familiarity would take _at least_ a century more to get used to, Rebekah thought, taking a sip of scotch before answering. “Mother did. Runa was my shadow, Ansel was Kol’s. But what do names matter, Nik? The important part is I just saw a shadow eating one of Marcel’s lackeys three blocks from Café du Monde!”

“Marcel said something the other night about some dead vampires. I told him to find and punish those responsible, but from what you’re saying, it may not have been a witch or a werewolf.” Her brother adopted a grim expression and leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me everything mother taught you about these...shadows.”

 

* * *

They were in bed, Caroline tracing circles over the tattoo on his chest, when she asked him.

“So, why did the name Ansel surprise you? Is it someone from your past?”

He should have known. Caroline was greedy for details about his life, endlessly curious in that eternal sunshine way of hers that made him want to tell her about everything so he could watch her face. _Of course_ she would notice his reaction, however infinitesimal, and _of course_ she would ask. Time for a distraction.

He turned towards her and dipped his head to run his lips along her shoulder, nipping across her collarbone. She sighed, a sound that started in resignation and ended in pleasure, her head tilting back to arch her body towards him, and he knew he had won himself a little more time. He settled her on her back as he draped himself across her, beginning a slow descent with his mouth. He cupped the flesh of her ass and squeezed before lifting her leg up and hooking it behind his shoulder, placing an almost absentminded kiss on her knee. His other hand spread her folds to dip inside before circling her clit with the softest touch, and he waited for the inevitable frustrated noise before he lowered his mouth to her breasts, sucking and teasing a nipple with a sweep of his tongue as his hand increased pressure.

Normally he’d have whispered a dozen dirty thoughts into her skin by now, but tonight he already had too many words circling in his head and so noise made up for language. Soft groans and her echoing moans, a grunt as he thrust two fingers inside her, his breath catching as her leg tightened on his shoulder and she fell apart. His name. Her own, said brokenly in answer as he sunk into her.

He was rough, needing the release and knowing she liked it that way, her nails sunk into the meat of his shoulders, his eyes wolf-yellow as double-jawed fangs pierced into her neck and she cried out, pulsing around him almost violently, pulling his own orgasm from him.

It was enough to hide the words for a few minutes more. It would never be long enough.

Klaus watched with trepidation as Caroline's chest rose in a deep inhale before she spoke. “Great distraction, Klaus. But now I’m even more curious, because I want to know _why_ you want to hide this so bad."

Klaus sighed. How to explain to his love that he had killed his own father to protect her? He remembered that confused feeling of elation and alarm when Ansel had stared at him over the fire and said “I saw you dancing with the blonde in Mystic Falls.” It had been liberating for moment, that shared secret, until he realized that his father’s knowledge of the happiness Caroline brought could only be used against him. And so he had made his choice. And if he had looked back once or twice, it was only to use as an artist’s muse; you’ll forgive him, won’t you?

Caroline lay beside him, eyes trained on his own where he knew his thoughts were revealed more and more by the second.

“Klaus, what?” she prompted softly, running a hand down the stubble of his cheek.

He rose from the bed, shoulders lit by the moonlight.

“He was my real father.”

“You mean the werewolf side of you? Did...did you know him?”

“No, not until the Other Side was destroyed. He came to me.” He tensed as Caroline’s hand touched his back, the gesture so acute in its trust that it angered him. He snapped. “I killed him.”

“Wh-what? Why? Was he like Mikael? Seriously, Klaus, could you have at least _one_ family member that isn’t out for your blood?”

His anger grew at her show of loyalty, even if it was all he had ever wanted. “No, Caroline. My father actually wanted to form a relationship with me.” He laughed darkly. “He wanted to be a dad after a thousand years of ruin.”

He felt her hand falter on his back but oh, that trust once it was earned was so hard to break. He should know, he'd used that to his advantage countless times, with countless beings long-dead from his treachery. He closed his eyes as she stood and turned him towards her, resting her hands on his hips, and if he wasn’t so cowardly as to keep his eyes shut, he’d see the shaft of moonlight slanting across her face now.

“I killed him because he knew about my weakness, Caroline. He knew about _you_ , before you came to me, before Bonnie cast the runes that protect you.” He couldn’t help himself and opened his eyes, tracing the patterns that he knew by heart, Viking runes of protection found in his mother’s grimoire and drawn with magic just beneath Caroline’s skin. At least the Bennett witch and himself had agreed on one thing.

Caroline pulled away and he closed his eyes again. Her voice held an edge of tension to it that only grew as she spoke. “So, let me get this straight? You killed your dad, who came back from the Other Side to see you, because you were worried that somehow meant he wanted to kill me…”

He heard drawers open and slam shut, the swish of fabric. “Well, to be fair, I killed him because I couldn’t let that knowledge be known to my enemies at the time, which included Mikael and my dearest mother.”

“Klaus, _Damon_ knew you were in love with me. But he’s still alive? So help me understand what sort of logic you used, because honestly? It’s escaping me at the moment.” Even in her biting sarcasm there was a hint of hope that lay just beneath. He opened his eyes again as she slid one of his henleys over her head, her hair sticking up in odd directions until she smoothed it with an unconscious motion. His breath became strangled in his throat. A thousand years of the human condition and yet his breath was strangled in his throat at the sight of her. Love was a weakness indeed.

“Damon was and never will be a threat, Caroline. My father and whomever his loyalties were towards were an unknown.” His anger rose to the surface and he said the words he knew would make her leave. “I will _not_ have my judgment questioned when comes to your safety.” And there it was, the visible affront, the almost-comical-in-its-anger act of pulling on a pair of jeans, the glare and the angry muttering and then, then at the door that final turn.

“Then I'll give you time to question your own judgment, _Klaus_.”

His phone was out and six bodyguards dispatched before the door could even slam.

 

* * *

“What the _fuck_?” Bonnie's indignant cry was lessened somewhat by the sheet hastily pulled to cover her breasts. Klaus could care less and scanned the room before kicking open the bathroom door. No Caroline. Where the hell _was_ she?

“Where is Caroline?” Klaus voiced his thoughts through the pain as Bonnie instinctively stabbed at him with magic. “She ditched my hybrids, and worthless as they clearly are, she can't be out in the city now without protection.” Bonnie dropped her spell at the undercurrent of panic in Klaus' voice. If there was anything she didn't doubt from the Original, his love and loyalty for Caroline was without question.

She sighed. “Caroline isn't here, clearly. But she's safe, and before you ask, she didn't tell me anything about where she is,” Bonnie said, eyeing Klaus warily, “or even what you did, exactly.”

“Well then how do you know she's safe? There are shadow creatures draining the life out of vampires out there – whether she's in the city or not _things are not safe_ and I never would have let her leave if -”

“ _Let_ her? Oh this is _hilarious_ , please tell us all of your relationship secrets!” a new voice said from the air next to Bonnie and she sighed resignedly, waving a hand in dismissal of a spell.

“Kol...we had a deal,” she whispered uselessly.

“But darling, Nik is so delightfully clueless, you can't blame me for speaking up.” Kol turned his bedhead towards Klaus, the self-satisfied grin stretched across his features dropping as his eyes turned strangely serious. “And besides that, I think I can help.”

“Ansel?” Klaus asked and Kol's eyes widened.

“How did? – ah, Bekah. Yes, We've seen shadows before. What I don't get is why they're attacking now. They are – _were_ – harmless. Friendly, even. But I remember -” Kol paused, shifting on the mattress as he squinted in thought and Bonnie took the chance to pull on a robe from a hook next to the bed, wrapping it around her thin shoulders. “I remember mother saying they were spirits tied to the earth, to the land itself,” Kol finished, eyebrows raised in a prompt, and Klaus picked up the thread with a thankful nod to his brother.

“Which sounds eerily reminiscent of Native American beliefs.” He wheeled in his tracks before he even finished his sentence, leaving the room in such a hurry that Bonnie pulled her robe closer to shrug off the breeze, glancing with worry at Kol.

“Do you think Caroline will be safe? Should I have made her talk to Klaus instead of hiding out?”

“She'll be fine, she's a vampire and she has Nordic runes of protection magically etched on her by the most powerful witch of our age,” Kol said with a wink, tapping Bonnie's nose.

Bonnie rolled her eyes but nodded, moving on to give Kol a sideways glance. “You know, this is not how I wanted people to find out about us.”

“Are you trying to say you're ashamed of,” he stood and let the sheet drop, “all this?”

Bonnie sighed an aggrieved sigh. “I hate you.”

“I've translated that as 'you are the most charming person I've ever met, and I would like to have sex with you now.”

“No, it just means I hate you.”

“Are you sure?” Kol leaned down over her, hands on either side of her head.

“Yes. Except you might be right about the sex part.”

 

* * *

Klaus always found that the wolf cleared his head. Part of it, he supposed, was the pain of transformation, part of it the rhythm of the loping strides as his beast carried him away from the city, like now as he turned southwest towards the town of Houma. Another part of it was the inevitable thoughts of Henrik, his brother, dead some thousand years and his sweet smile unfairly faded in Klaus’ millenia-old memory. As a wolf, he found that the residual memories of his brother were stronger - the result of the instincts tied to pack - and while Klaus never failed to marvel at the twisted irony, he would also never turn down the chance to remember.

Always and forever.

Some thirty miles from New Orleans, Klaus slowed his run and trotted along a low creek bed. He heard the rack of a shotgun and then a low voice across the swampy gloom: “Hold your fire. I know that wolf.”

Klaus approached cautiously, scenting two males before he even saw the older one wave the younger off, and Klaus emerged from the treeline, pawing the ground.

The man kicked a bag at his feet towards Klaus. “You just caught me heading to the gym. My grandkids insist I need weight-bearing exercises at my age.” He leveled a stare at Klaus’ amber eyes before pulling up a cheap plastic chair in front of a small firepit laid with kindling. Klaus disappeared back into the woods to transform, walking unabashedly through the backyard in naked human form before pulling on a pair of threadbare sweatpants from the man’s bag.

“It has been some years, hybrid. Why do you come now?” The man’s face could almost be considered round if it wasn’t for his heavy, squared jaw.

Klaus dipped his head in acknowledgment. “My deepest respects, Nashoba. I need to know what you know of shadow creatures.”

Nashoba’s sparse brows lifted in surprise but didn’t respond at first and Klaus struggled to remain patient with the old ways.

When Nashoba spoke, his voice was rich and steady, the voice of a storyteller. “Shadows - _shilombish_ -are attracted to life and death, because that is when their kind is drawn to the earth. They are the balance of soul's light. When a person dies, the shilombish leaves their soul and crosses between-world. ” Nashoba leaned over, clicking the button on a fireplace safety lighter and setting the kindling alight. The modern world did offer a few conveniences.

“Between-world?” Klaus asked impatiently.

“It's a place that sits on the cusp of the Other Side, from what the traditions say. The shilombish don’t live here, they live _there_. Between-world. Between the darkness and the light.” His eyes glimmered in the firelight as he shrugged and turned a considering gaze towards Klaus. “Heard tell they’ve been draining vampires. Seems funny to me, hybrid. Shilombish aren’t violent creatures, just shadows of the dead before they find their way back home. Funny business, them killing things that hang in between life and death, nowhere close to their purpose. Makes an old man wonder if someone's behind it all.”

Klaus snapped, reaching across and grabbing Nashoba around his thick neck. “What do you know? My respect for your traditions pales when you sit here and make me out for a fool.” The man wheezed in the hybrid’s grip before Klaus caught the fear in his eyes and relented.

“What i gave was wisdom, not plans,” Nashoba rasped when he could speak again, massaging his throat with a wrinkled hand. “Leave now. You will get no more from this old man. I may not be able to kill you, but our magic runs deep and we will offer no quarter.” At this he stood and Klaus felt the crackle of magic surging from the earth. It was time to go, he had gotten all that the tribe could offer.

He nodded to Nashomba before casually walking towards the woods, nonchalance oozing from every step. Unable to resist the last word, Klaus stopped at the treeline. “Just remember that our pact runs both ways, old man. Considering my anger a break would mean my own conditions of the pact would no longer be valid, and your tribe no longer protected. Your choice! Have a pleasant evening!”

 

* * *

Klaus eyed the garish arch of lights that marked the nighttime gate of Louis Armstrong Park with distaste. He'd been trailing Caroline for a good mile now; after days of no contact he'd finally spotted her in the Garden District and tailed her quietly, eyes locked on her form. Now in the Quarter with her phone glued to her ear – presumably Bonnie on the other end - her easy conversation and laughter simultaneously soothed and enraged him.

How _dare_ she be ok? How dare she flaunt how fine she was without him? He almost flashed up to confront her when he heard her voice change and he held his breath instead, listening. She would be so angry if she knew, but he wanted – _needed_ – to hear her say something, anything.

“I don't know Bon – I mean I miss him, of course I do. And it _hurts_ to not be with him.” Klaus couldn't stop his small exhale at this, but she continued on, unnoticing. “But I – I don't know. I feel almost like he used me as an excuse for something really horrible and it makes me feel a part of it and I just...” She paused, kicking at a pebble on the ground and chasing after it to kick it again as the night curled around her feet. “I know I made my peace with who he was – _is_ \- but that doesn't mean that I can just turn a blind eye to it when it happens. I don't know.”

Klaus was so distracted by her words and the loyalty inherent in them that he didn't notice that the darkness around Caroline was darker than it should be. He _did_ notice that the shadow she threw on the wall encircling the park stirred at the edges and he started forward just as Caroline dropped the phone and screamed, her voice stolen moments later as a shadow slipped inside her mouth.

“No!” Klaus grabbed Caroline, shaking her, trying to find a way to remove the shadow without harming her. He yelled at Bonnie on the other end of the phone that miraculously hadn't broken in the fall. “The shadows, they're taking her. Why aren't the runes protecting her? DO SOMETHING! ” Caroline's skin swam with smoke and shadow but the protective runes indeed lay dormant, without the glow that signified their power awakened.

“Klaus, keep her there, we're coming,” Bonnie yelled before disconnecting and Klaus held Caroline helplessly, watching as sections of her skin darkened to jet black, so dark as to be an absence of color rather than a shade, his artist's mind thought needlessly.

“Oh!” Caroline cried, a small surprised sound, and Klaus knelt, laying her back against a bent knee, searching her face in a panic. What could you do when your power meant nothing?

She coughed, dark smoke emerging from pale lips, and Klaus fruitlessly tried to catch the shadow in his hands. Caroline rolled off of Klaus' leg and on to all fours, heaving up choking breaths as clouds of darkness escaped her mouth before swirling in a fog around her head.

“Oh! oh oh my god.”

“What, what. Love? What is it?” Klaus was still panicked, but his worry had eased a bit now that the dark creatures didn't seem to be draining Caroline, not like they had countless others.

She sat back on her haunches and stared straight ahead, Klaus kneeling down in front of her to study her face. Moments passed with her gaze faraway and Klaus reached a helpless hand towards her before she finally responded, in a tone shrouded with wonder.

“The shadows. They're telling me their story.”

* * *

 

“But why you?” Bonnie asked, pushing up on her toes and sending the porch chair swinging. They had come back to the cottage after meeting up at the park, Caroline pale but safe though the shadows still circled her head like a shark tank. She sat now with Klaus across from Bonnie and Kol, and the hybrid refused to stop touching her. Currently his arm was wrapped around her waist and Bonnie would think it almost cute if it wasn't _Klaus._

Caroline shrugged. “I think they were worried they'd interfere with the shadows already attached to human souls, so they tried working with something that was neither dead nor alive. They don't...think in the same way we do, so it's hard to say why I lived and others died, but, um, I'm glad that's the case?” Klaus grip tightened at her words and she held back a smile, leaning her head against his shoulder.

They were all surprised when Kol spoke up, continuing the thread. “It's because you're so close to your humanity. My brother called it,” he said with a mock salute at Klaus and air quotes on his next words, “you're 'full of light'. It kept you alive.”

Bonnie mouthed an embarrassed 'sorry!' at Caroline for revealing a confidence, and understanding dawned across Klaus' features. “Nashomba mentioned something about the soul's balance. You had enough humanity to survive the shadows communicating with you. So, were they able tell you who is controlling them now, and what their plans are?”

“Shockingly enough, Klaus, not everything has to be about power and control. You know what they want? A place to live.” Caroline lifted her head from Klaus' shoulder and looked at Bonnie as she explained. “When the Other Side was destroyed, the shadows’ home started falling apart, pieces of it dropping into the void where the Other Side used to be. While the veil and what was behind it was gone in a flash, the between-world that relied on it has taken longer to, well...die.”

“Sooo,” Bonnie drawled, “what does that mean?”

“They need a new home, and they need help getting it.” Caroline's eyes were pleading and Bonnie almost laughed.

“This isn't the same as the time you made me adopt that kitten even though I was allergic to it, Care. What do you expect us to do?”

Klaus spoke up. “I can't say having a stable of vampire-draining shadow friends wouldn't be convenient. What can we do to help, sweetheart?”

Caroline glared at him, trying to pull away from his iron grip. “This isn't about _using_ them, and they can't live here anyways. We need to recreate their home, the between-world. Bon – do you remember the spell that made you the anchor?”

Kol clapped his hands, delighted. “Oooh what poor soul will be the shadow's anchor? Can I pick? How about that Diego? He's always irritated the piss out of me. No, wait, I'd rather use his head for batting practice. Oh! Oh!!! I know! Damon Salvatore!”

Caroline stifled her laughter. “Kol, we can anchor it to one of the shadows itself. No torture needed, although I would totally vote for Damon.”

Kol's face fell and Bonnie almost felt sorry for him.

 

* * *

Bonnie emerged from the magic shop, the top of a paper sack peeking over the edge of her purse and her expression troubled. She gave a distracted half-smile to Caroline as she passed her, walking back to where the car was crookedly parked on the street.

“Bon?”

Bonnie glanced up. “Sorry. I just..." She stopped, tried again. "I've been thinking about the shadows. _I'm_ the one that destroyed their home, however indirectly. And it's just - ” she paused as she opened the car door, “How many other things have I ruined and paid no attention to? I've never even given a thought to the consequences of my magic.”

“Bon, we've never really had _time_ , we're always one step away from some crazy supernatural threat destroying us all. It's not like you're choosing to ignore things. And think of how many lives you've saved _._ ”

Bonnie sighed and started the car but made no move to pull away from the curb. “Yeah, I know you're right, kinda.”

Caroline raised a brow. “Excuse me? I'm 100% right. Except I will say that if you show up with another super creepy college professor I will **totally** say something earlier.” The girls both shuddered. “Look, I'm not going to say you haven't done bad things, because that would be a lie, just like it would be for me. I guess it's just...I look at you, and I see someone I love, someone that's made sacrifices for every single person around her without asking for anything in return. That's who I see,” Caroline finished, reaching across the console to envelop Bonnie in a long hug, her eyes squeezed tight as if to mimic.

Bonnie's eyes held a wet sheen as she pulled into traffic and headed back towards the Quarter.

A few minutes later they rolled into Bonnie's driveway, tires crunching on gravel, the two Originals meeting them at the gate to the small backyard patio where they would perform the ritual. How Klaus could manage the kicked-puppy look after a life of countless atrocities was beyond Caroline, but his expression was dangerously close to melting the ice around her heart. She still wasn't sure what to think about his real father, but she'd at least gotten over the guilt, because in the end she knew that Ansel would be dead by Klaus' hand whether it was on her behalf or for another twisted reason. Klaus wasn't exactly on a redemption arc.

No, that murderous hybrid darting worried glances at her wasn't ever going to be 'fixed', but she still loved him anyways. That didn't mean she wouldn't show him that actions had consequences, so she pointedly ignored him as she lit a stick of sage, letting the pungent aroma serve as a distraction.

Salt glimmered in the light from the candles as Bonnie completed the circle around Caroline. Klaus drew closer but didn't break the perimeter, his eyes hard now as his concern shifted to something more familiar. “If you harm one hair on her head, witch, consider your life forfeit.”

Bonnie ignored him, starting to chant as she took the sage from Caroline, placing it in a brazier that sat at the north end of the circle. At the south end, smoke rose with the hiss of water as Kol extinguished the torch on Bonnie's signal, sending the circle into half-shadow. The remaining light danced across Caroline's face and the shadows deepened behind her, circling, circling, and Bonnie's voice rose to its peak, ancient words of power unleashed.

 

* * *

“I'm still super pissed at you,” Caroline said over her shoulder as she walked inside the cottage - _their home_. The spell had gone off without a hitch as far as they could tell, although Bonnie was quite drained even with all three vampires serving to power the magic.

“I know.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet and she turned in surprise. He'd seemed fine during the spell so...

“What is it, Klaus?”

“Your humanity, your light, it's what saved you.”

“Yeah, and?” Her brows knit in confusion, trying to puzzle out what Klaus was getting at.

He was quiet for another moment, jaw tensing when he ground his teeth together, as if trying to hold back his next words. “What if this was three centuries from now, when life with me had invariably darkened you? When you, encouraged by me, had embraced your monster?”

His face was so conflicted, and he seemed so incredibly unsure of himself that Caroline stared at him a moment, giving him a chance to take the words back. When he stayed silent, she grew visibly angry. “God DAMN it Klaus, why don't you get that this,” she circled a frustrated hand between them, “us - is about choice? You've always chosen me – it's a big part of why I showed up on your doorstep – but even more importantly, you've _always_ understood that it was my choice. So if I choose to drink from the vein in a year or a century then it's my _choice._ It's not your influence, it's not you 'soiling my light' or whatever bullshit reasoning you want to use to make it about you. Screw that, Klaus.” She had backed him up against the now-closed door and they stood inches apart, her face upturned. “It will always be my choice, and you have never taken that from me and you _BETTER_ not be trying to now so that you can get your Tortured Artist punch card filled you _dick!”_ He laughed at this, a laugh that bubbled up from his chest and out into the air and her eyes narrowed. “And if you're laughing at me now I will kill you, white oak stake or not.”

He caught his breath and smiled, letting it stretch across his face in a moment of true amusement. “No, Caroline, I'm not laughing at you. I'm just wondering what I get when my punch card is full.”

She swatted at him and he cupped the back of her head, drew her close, and kissed her.

A few minutes later she pulled back a little and dipped her head down, nipping at his neck as she offered her delayed response. “I don't know. A broody title for your next painting. An existential crisis. Buy one get one rage-fueled meltdown free.” She smiled into his neck and slid her hands up underneath his shirt. “Guess you'll never know.”  
  
“Guess not. Certainly not now, at least,” he responded and she shook her head even as she reached up to kiss him again. With their eyes closed, neither of them noticed the shadows that playfully swooped and dipped above their heads before disappearing into the blackest night.


End file.
